


(Not) Sorry I Ran Into You

by redrobinfection (ChristmasRivers)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Awkwardness, Car Accidents, First Meetings, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22966696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristmasRivers/pseuds/redrobinfection
Summary: Jason backs his daily driver into the pretty fender of some rich dude's fancy car. Of course the guy turns out to be cute to boot. F*ck his life.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 11
Kudos: 222





	(Not) Sorry I Ran Into You

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a LONG time since I've posted anything and I've had this little thing lying around for a while now just waiting for a writing dry spell; what better day to randomly reappear with a new work than leap day? ;3 Enjoy! *flees into the ether once more*

A low crunching sound accompanies a sharp bump and the car comes to a sudden halt. Jason winces and curses as he glances wildly into his rear view mirror. He reluctantly pushes his door open and stands to inspect the damage. _Dammit, I thought I’d had enough space for sure._

Nope. Not this time. Instead, the rear end of his daily driver is smushed into the shiny silver bumper of some fancy BMW. He re-enters his car and gingerly pulls forward, wincing at the squeal of plastic and metal separating. This is definitely not his finest moment as a driver. _Damn stupid Gotham street parking. It’s always so damned tight,_ he thinks bitterly.

To make matters worse, just as he is stepping out to leave a note with his name, number and insurance info on the other car, a young man in a sharply-tailored business suit steps up with wide eyes.

“Shit, sorry. Is this your car?” Jason asks, flashing a pained, apologetic expression.

The man’s gaze darts between the damaged vehicle, Jason’s face, and back again rapidly. He nods soundlessly.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, man. I was just about to leave you my info,” he explains hastily. Emphasis on the haste, because the last thing he needs right now is a lawsuit from some rich-ass dude over a few dings for which he didn’t apologize quickly or profusely enough. The other man stares up at him blankly, apparently in shock. Jason grimaces and pushes on anyway.

“I hate to just take off, but I have a meeting across town” - he does, at the bank, to discuss a loan to expand the wildly-successful small business he started with Roy and Kori about a year ago - “so let me just…give you…my info…” he mutters as he bends down over the trunk of his car and scribbles out his info onto a spare napkin he found in his glove compartment.

Out of the corner of his eye he notices the man shifting in agitation, so he hurries, not giving the guy an opening to argue or complain, and quickly shoves the napkin into his hands, then backs away and continues apologizing as he retreats.

“Again, I’m so sorry. Let me know if you have any trouble with the insurance. If they put up a fuss over paying for the repairs, just let me know and I’ll take care of it myself.”

A strangled noise from behind gives him pause right as he is lowering himself into the driver’s seat.

“Uh.… Jay-Jason?” The young businessman calls out. Jason turns around and looks up into the guy’s face, noticing for the first time that he is actually kind of cute. Jason feels himself tense up subconsciously. _Crap._ Of course the car he backed into would belong to a cute guy. Of fucking course.

“I, uh. Here.” The young suit hurries forward, digging into the side pocket of his briefcase. He fumbles out a business card and extends it to him. “I’m, uh, Tim. That’s in case, you know, you need to contact me for some reason. Or something.” He clears his throat and frowns at the passing traffic, looking flustered. “If nothing else, you have my number, so you’ll recognize when I call you - if I need to, I mean!”

Jason nods and pockets the card without a glance. “Yeah, good thinking. Okay, I gotta go. Sorry again!”

For a second it seems as if the man - Tim - wants to say more, but then he nods and backs up, barely stopping himself before he backs into oncoming traffic. He waves once, then whirls, nearly tripping over his own feet, and hurries back to his car.

Jason watches in his rear-view mirror and frowns. The guy seemed disproportionately shell-shocked by the whole experience. For a moment he wonders if the guy is okay or if maybe the poor man is having an anxiety attack or a stroke or something, but then Jason spots an opening in the traffic and jumps on the gas, leaving the upset, handsome man and all thoughts of the collision behind him.

~*~

Of course, because this is _his_ fucked up life we’re talking about, the insurance company puts up a fuss over the accident and refuses to cover the repairs. Par for the fucking course.

The cute businessman calls him a few days later to let him know, and Jason suggests meeting with him at a well-known coffee shop downtown the next day. As soon as they sit down, he immediately hands the guy a check for six-hundred dollars, ignoring the startled look and stuttered refusals the other man gives him.

“No, I said I’d pay for the damages myself if the insurance company wouldn’t cover it, and I meant it,” Jason insists firmly. “Take it. If six-hundred isn’t enough, then get back to me with the service receipt and I’ll stroke a check for the difference. If that’s more than you need, then keep the difference as an apology for all the trouble. Really. Please.”

The man - Tim, his name is Tim, Jason reminds himself; he _really_ needs to stop calling him “Cute Suit” in his head and use his damn name so he’ll remember it - frowns down into his large coffee for a long moment before he reaches out to take the check and nods acceptance. Jason breathes a sigh of relief. Not only would this soothe his conscience, but hopefully it would curtail the need for any legal action. Hopefully everything would smooth over from here.

Jason thanks him for taking the time to meet him, apologizes again for the inconvenience, and stands to leave. Just as he had on the day of the accident, the young man pauses as if he wants to say something, his distractingly pretty features twisted into a vulnerable, uncertain expression.

He raises a hand as if to pluck at the sleeve of Jason’s leather jacket, and for a moment Jason truly expects the man to tell him to stop, sit back down, and hear him out as he gives Jason a piece of his mind, maybe even hurl a few choice words that he’d been meaning to say to Jason since the day he had practically hit his car and run. Jason tenses, but the moment passes.

Instead, Tim stands and turns his gesture into a prompt to shake hands. He flashes his shiny, plastic businessman’s smile and thanks Jason for going so far out of his way to set things right. They part amicably and Jason pushes Tim the Cute Suit to the back of his mind once more.

~*~

A week and a half later, Tim reaches out to him again. Jason resists the urge to bang his head against a wall and accepts the call. Tim suggests they meet at a popular upscale restaurant at seven in the evening a few days from now.

Jason raises his eyebrows at the location and time, but agrees readily. Anything to have this over and done with. Anything so he can stop feeling bad about damaging this man’s expensive car and very likely ruining his day. _Anything_ so he could finally get this man’s slate blue eyes out of his wandering thoughts and banish his distressingly attractive face from his dreams.

Jason meets him outside the restaurant at the appointed hour and politely requests an explanation. Tim, dressed to the nines in an evening suit with dark red accents - looking especially, _devastatingly_ handsome, damn the bastard - doesn’t take the opening and cut right to the chase as Jason would have expected him to. Instead, he deflects, complimenting Jason for his tasteful sport coat and also making a point to mention his appreciation for the leather coat Jason had worn that fateful day, then suggests they discuss their business inside, over dinner.

Jason digs in his heels, metaphorically speaking. Even if he weren’t loathe to torture himself over dinner with the distracting young man, he doesn’t care to play any more games with the man over this minor accident. If Tim has something to say to him or something to demand of him, then it is high time they dropped the pleasantries and got to the point.

“Dinner? Why?”

Tim drops a fraction of his suave demeanor and shrinks in on himself. “Well, the repairs didn’t run anywhere near the six-hundred you gave me,” he explains slowly, “and I felt bad, so, I thought…”

“Dinner.”

Tim winces slightly at Jason’s blunt tone, but shrugs. “Yeah.”

“You want to take me out to dinner?”

Tim blinks. “Uh. Yes?”

“At this fancy place?”

Tim looks uncomfortable, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides as if he wants to wring them. “Well, the repairs only cost $350, so, I mean…”

“Is this supposed to be a date?”

Tim gapes at him.

Jason wants to slap himself for letting his mouth run ahead of his brain. On the other hand, he _does_ want to put the other man off-guard, upset him a little, and try to shock him into revealing his true purposes, so if this line of questioning does that, then good. Hell, he doesn’t even know if Cute Suit even swings his way, so at least now he’ll find out and can adjust his useless pining and warranted self-berating accordingly.

He expects shock, maybe some anger, but definitely some answers. What he doesn’t expect is for Tim to turn a deep pink and glance to the side, clearly fighting to hold his composure. Nor does he expect for Tim to clear his throat and clench and unclench his hands in agitation while sneaking glances between Jason and the traffic in the street as if he’s trying to decide if he’d rather throw himself at the man or throw himself in front of a car.

_Oh fuck me…_

He’d hit it on the head. All this time beating himself up and… _good grief._ He’d wanted to know what Tim’s hidden intentions were, what it was the man had hesitated over again and again since the first day they’d “met”, but…well…there you go. This was it. To imagine that this suave, sharp young jet-setter had had the same ideas about Jason that Jason had had about him, and all this time Jason had been so busy beating himself up and trying to ignore how attractive the victim of his blunder was that he couldn’t even see it.

Figures.

The moment stretches and the unanswered question hangs between them long enough that Jason swears he begins to vibrate. Tim looks as if he is seriously considering taking off, but, emboldened by his growing certainty, Jason decides to try a different tack.

“Okay, well, let’s put it this way,” Jason tells him, “If this is just you treating me to dinner to pay me back, then I’ll pass. But if this is a date, then I’ll take you up on the offer.”

Tim stares. Then, slowly, a blinding smile lights up his face. Jason grins back and Tim’s smile takes on an abashed tinge as he rubs the back of his head. “Yeah, I was kind of hoping this could be a date, if you, uhhh, wanted that too.”

“If only we had been this straightforward from the start,” Jason sighs, shaking his head. “Yeah, man, I’d really like that.”

Tim’s smile turns relieved and he gestures awkwardly toward the entrance to the restaurant. Jason nods and moves toward the revolving door. Tim stays close to his side, but wisely keeps his hands to himself. This _is_ a first date, after all.

“Honestly, I wanted to say something,” Tim admits quietly, “but I thought that if I had said ‘Here’s my business card. Call me sometime. It was nice to meet you. Sorry about you hitting my car,’ you would have taken off and never returned my calls.”

Jason gets a good laugh out of that. “Yeah, if you had apologized to me for me hitting your car, jeez, I _definitely_ would have taken that golden opportunity to escape the guilt and the repair fees and flown out of there like a bat out of hell.” He smiles down at Tim and waves him ahead of him. Tim darts forward toward the moving door, then glances back and grabs Jason’s hand at the last second, pulling them both into the same cramped section of the revolving door. Jason stumbles into him as the door spits them out into the restaurant.

“Oops, sorry,” Tim apologizes, dropping Jason’s hand as if burned. Then he grins, half apologetic, half amused. “Sorry you ran into me. Again.”

Jason shakes his head with a chuckle and slips his hand back into Tim’s - to hell with any first date etiquette, they can hold hands if they both want to. Wait. They went to a coffee shop the last time they met up, so that can count as a first date, right? “No problem,” Jason tells him.

Tim tenses, but doesn’t pull his hand away. The host recognizes Tim on sight and immediately ushers them back. Tim tightens his grip on Jason’s hand and leads the way as they follow the host.

“If I’m being honest,” Jason adds in a murmur, leaning in over Tim’s shoulder, “I’m _not_ sorry I ran into you. Not just now and definitely not back then.” He pauses and lets his voice drop a few pitches, finally relaxed enough to fall into his flirtatious mode. “It’s nice to meet you, Tim Drake.”

Tim pauses then turns back to him with a warm smile. “I take it back. I’m not sorry you ran into me, either. It’s nice to meet you, too, Jason Todd.”

**Author's Note:**

> My DCU tumblr sideblog is [redrobinfection](https://redrobinfection.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading!
> 
>  **Bonus:** This is what was going through Tim's head the moment he walked up to the scene of the accident:  
> “Oh holy crap this dude is hot. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Whadduidoooooo???! He’s so hot and he just ran into my car but he’s so hot and I don’t even OH MY GOD HE JUST BENT OVER THE CAR. I. I. I…” _*brain reboots and he shifts in agitation; hot-dude straightens up again and shoves the napkin into his hands and he tries not to spontaneously combust*_ "oh my… oh my… oh my god he’s leaving wait wait *croaks out something unintelligible* oh fuck me fuck fuck fuck I’m fucking this up” _*out loud*_ "I, uh. Here.” _*hurries forward, digging into the side pocket of his briefcase; fumbles out business card_ * “I’m, uh, Tim. That’s in case, you know, you need to contact me for some reason. Or something.” _*to himself*_ Aaaaaaaahmygodwhyamisoawkwaaaaaaaaard" * _out loud*_ “If nothing else, you have my number. So you’ll recognize my number when I call you. If I need to, that is!” * _to himself*_ “I want to die. He is so hot and I totally fucked that up. Whycan'tIjusttalktopeoplewhenitmatterssssssssssssss!!!! Oh man say something else. Say it now. NOW, TIM. DAMMMMMMITTTT.” * _Nods numbly. Almost backs into traffic, doesn’t even notice. Almost runs into his own car trying to get in. Dies inside a little when the dude floors it two seconds later, clearly desperate to get away from him.*_ “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck."


End file.
